


Secrets

by Why Am I The Witness (PoisonedDeath)



Series: Who I Am [1]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Gen, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 07:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3683301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedDeath/pseuds/Why%20Am%20I%20The%20Witness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew they'd find out eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a series I've been thinking about for a while. I'm not 100% where it's going, but I have ideas and I'm excited enough about it to actually write it, so here goes.

He knew they'd find out eventually. He knew it was unavoidable, but he'd never prepared himself for it. Sure, it was only Angel, and Angel wouldn't judge him, but the fear that had already grown enough to begin to swallow him. He was drowning in it. He was lucky, he supposed - his jawline was masculine, and his height wouldn't give him away. He'd learnt how to deepen his voice, and his sweaters hid any evidence of who he used to be. This situation was the reason he'd left Scarsdale, and also the reason why he refused to speak to his father. He was grateful for his mother's acceptance, but part of him couldn't help but feel that she tried too hard. It made him uncomfortable.

Maureen knew. Of course, she did. That was why they dated in the first place, and also the reason they broke up. Maureen respected Mark as a man, and she knew that she only liked women. It really was that simple. To anyone else - specifically, Collins and Roger - it seemed that Maureen had switched sides. Mark wasn't so sure himself. He knew Maureen was never straight. In fact, he even doubted that she was bisexual, but he couldn't raise that point in front of his friends without outing himself. So he didn't.

Mark knew he wasn't a woman, wasn't a girl - _a female_. Sure, he had his feminine traits, but they were only traits. He was a man. He was a man attracted to - well, in Mark's eyes, it didn't matter who he was attracted to. It wasn't like he could date anyone, really. They'd all just think he was a lesbian. With a sigh, Mark found himself growing aware of his surroundings. He was sitting, cross-legged on his bed, fiddling awkwardly with his fingers. It was something he'd always done to calm himself down and without it, he was sure that he'd cry more often that he did. He wasn't sad, just frustrated and nervous and scared and - he brought his left fist to his mouth and bit down on a finger in a desperate attempt to stop the frantic gasps that were forcing their way out. He screwed his eyes shut as the tears formed. His father was right. His father was always right. He was a freak. He was disgusting and unnatural. Drowning. Suffocating. He wanted to scream. He threw himself backwards onto his bed. Both of his hands were now tugging on his strawberry blonde hair as he bit down hard on his bottom lip until he could taste blood. He turned, twisted until he was face-down on the pillows, trying to stifle his sobs. Pathetic.

As the tears began to slow, and his breathing steadied, a level of clarity returned to his mind. He'd have to talk to Angel later - he knew that, but it could wait. He sat up with a degree of caution and looked around his room, taking in deep breaths as he wiped his face. He was exhausted and he felt as though he had someone playing a drumkit inside his skull. He turned behind him and flipped the wet pillow over before lying down on it and closing his eyes. It took a while, but sleep did eventually find him. Tomorrow would be a new day, and he'd have a lot to explain.


End file.
